


Hands and Voices

by Mjazilem



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Becoming Guardians, Blind Character, Blind from Birth, Disabled Character, Force-Sensitive Chirrut Îmwe, Good Temple boy Baze, Hurt/Comfort, Kyber Sensitive, Meeting, Mutism, Mystery, Pre-Rogue One, Sensory Overload, Stimming, Temple of the Whills, kyber - Freeform, sensory processing disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mjazilem/pseuds/Mjazilem
Summary: The Temple of the Whills takes in everyone who comes to them, everyone has their own path to the Force.  Baze Malbus wants to be a guardian.  Chirrut Imwe wants to not be overwhelmed. He prefers the streets of Jedha City to the Temple.  But the Streets aren't safe and they're getting more dangerous everydayThey are about 13-14 years old, Baby Guardians





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Along with writing about Baze and Chirrut's meeting, the mystery of Chirrut's origins and how they both settle in to being Guardians my goal with this story is to present a Chirrut who has to deal with the overload of all his senses and who benefits from understanding, accommodations, learning about his own needs and self care. 
> 
> (I am hoping that it doesn't come across as disabled character meets abled savior, if it ever seems like that let me know and I'll go back to the drawing board. I just really love the supportive, helpful Baze I've seen in other fics. Idk I just wanted this.)
> 
> Autistic Author writing SPD/Autistic/Disabled Character
> 
> Chirrut will eventually be the Chirrut we know and Love but he needs some time to get there, please be patient :)

Everything is too much all the time

every voice pierces his ears

every hand that touches him burns his skin

Every whisper of the force sets his brain on fire

//

Baze had visited the Temple of the Whills as a boy.

It had been a bright brisk day and the temple's brightly colored banners had waved cheerfully against the clear sky.

He had walked up the large stone steps between his mothers hand in hand. His mothers had prayed at the temple altars in the great hall that the Force bless their family and their futures. It had been a very important religious pilgrimage for them.

Baze had been more interested in watching the people in the temple than praying.

They had traveled into the city from their small town in the outskirts and Baze was thrilled with all the people.

He loved watching them, seeing how they moved about their lives and how they interacted with one another. There were so many people moving in and around the temple, Baze was enthralled.

The Monks were called Guardians and they all wore black robes with different sashes that told what their main focuses in the Force were with stripes on their robes that told of any secondary areas of study.

Those that studied the body in red, those of the mind in white, those of the ground in orange, and those of the structure in yellow.

Members of the temple who were not Guardians wore gray robes, acolytes who were training to be Guardians wore gray tunics with black pants and sashes.

The Temple took in members with all kinds of skills. Everyone could find some way to venerate the force at the temple. The force would provide for them all.

Most were educated and became Guardians and some moved up the ranks to become Master and Grandmasters. Those who didn't learn were given a place to stay and could serve as staff and they would be taken care of.

The thing Baze loved the most was that the Guardians were all different. There were men, women, and non binary monks as well as many species other than human.

It was a fascinating place and when Baze and his family left the Temple to return to their small home on the edge of the city he promised himself he would be back, some day.

 

That day came sooner than Baze thought. Seven years later when Baze is in his fourteenth cycle on a cool clear morning he returns to the Temple.

Both of his mothers, his only family, had passed away. It was a sad thing for Baze but also a beginning and he is determined to make Mum Ozeela and Mama Umma proud.

He has a good head on his shoulders, he is smart. Both his mothers were teachers and made sure he could read and write in both Jedhian and Basic and he knows numbers. He is strong and knows how to do a days hard work.

Baze climbs the same steps he climbed with his mothers years ago and tells the first Guardian he sees, a man wearing a red sash at the doorway into the great hall, that he is here to become an acolyte. He is escorted to the administration wing of the temple.

He waited on a bench while a panel of Masters is gathered. He watches Guardians of all ages move in and out of rooms with holopads and scrolls most in yellow gold sashes.

When he is finally called into the room the Masters stand to greet him the four of them each with a different color sash. They sit at a long table after he has saluted each of them.

He stands in front of as he is put through a series of question.

“Baze Malbus, what brings you to the Temple of the Whills?” The yellow sashed master begins. Master Goa Baze remembers from introductions.

Baze straightens his back and tries to speak clearly, his hands clasped in front of him give away some of his nervousness. “Masters...” He gulps. He can here Mama Umma in his head now telling him to 'look sharp and don't let them see you sweat.' “I would like to serve the force and honor my family. I've come to be a Guardian of the Whills.”

“How do you wish to serve the force?” The Master in white inquirers.

“By... by learning the ways of the force and teaching others.” He believes he would make a good teacher, he knows his mothers took great pride and joy from teaching others.

“A teacher, that is a noble vocation.” The Masters nod. Baze bites his lip to keep from smiling. He is sure they won't reject him now, that is a great weight off his shoulders.

“We give a trial period of three days, if you wish to leave at any time during those three days you may go and not return. If you stay, on the fourth day you will take the oath of loyalty and become an acolyte of the temple.” The Master, Master Windom, in red explains.

“Do you understand?” She asks.

“I do.”

“Good then lets get you settled.”

Baze is given a grey tunic and pants and slippers and shown to a room with acolytes of similar age.  
There are five of them who stay in the room. It's a big room with twice as many beds as occupants. There are high windows on one wall and two pillars in the middle of the room and tube lamp sconces on the walls.

The bed Baze is given is along the wall under the windows.

All five of the others have on their gray tunics and the black sashes of students. Their hair is shore short expect for Acdon who has their's longer and tied back. They all introduce themselves in a flurrie of names and handshakes and questions.

Baze tries to keep up but it's a lot to take in at once. Still it's exciting.

Two of the acolytes, Titám and Ori, he mets are pretty obviously last sons who didn't exactly choose to be here. It is Jedian tradition that when a family has three sons or more the youngest of them is sent to the temple.

The others seem happy enough and after Baze stows his things under his bed, a couple show him around while the others run to their lessons.

It is an interesting tour and Baze gets to see parts of the temple he didn't when he came as a pilgrim. They show him the library and the training rooms and the mess hall. He eats lunch with the acolytes before they visit the great hall.

This is familiar to him. The high ceilings and the altars with candles and incense are just like they were when he visited as a boy.

There are worshipers in the hall. Not as many as on a holiday or during a festival season but still a good number.

The hall is quiet as they pass through, pilgrims and Guardians pray softly. Acolyte Acdon points out the different doorways behind the altars and Acolyte Dommin makes sure Baze sees the different Guardians stationed around the hall.

As they leave the hall and Dommin started to tell Baze about the tapestry on the wall in front of them a scuffle starts behind them. Someone is shouting it's an angry and desperate noise.

The whole great hall is disrupted with the noise.

//

-stop stop STOP- Chirrut wants to say and say again but he can't make the words form in his mouth. So he shouts and cries and growls but they don't listen to what he's trying to tell them. They don't care. No one does.

-I don't want to be here. I don't want to be touched. You're hurting me.-

The officer always drags him to the temple even though he protests, even though every time they've brought him here before he's runaway. They took his cane away before they made it too the temple steps. Probably because he kept using it to hit.

Why do they keep dragging him back here.

-noooo, no no- The temple is too loud his whole body vibrates with the odd noise of it.

It's unnerving and worrying and frightening.

He digs his heels into the ground and fights to be left alone, but he is no match for the large hands that dig into his arm and his side painfully.

He twists away from the hands and crawls at the fingers, he is rewarded with a howl from his captor but he's not released like he hoped. He's only held tighter and dragged rougher through a large room.

//

Baze is startled by the noise. It's totally at odds with the peaceful feeling of the Temple.

Acdon doesn't seem phased “Chirrut must be back.” He says casually and Dommin nods.

“What?” Baze can't imagine anything like this would be as normal as they make it seem.

“A street kid from the city.” Acdon explains.  

“Why is he yelling? Is he alright?”

Both the others shrug. “That's what he does, yell.”

Dommin tiptoes cautiously back to the large doorway to the great hall and Baze and Acdon follow.

They peek around the corner to where an officer in a Jedha city uniform is dragging a boy through the great hall. The boy, Chirrut, fights but is out matched by the taller stronger man who able to pick the rail thin young man up and keep him moving.

“Why is he being brought here like that?” Baze is shocked. He can't think of a reason why the officer would need to be so rough with the boy or why the boy would fight like that.

“He's been brought here a couple times while I've been here, apparently the constable keeps bringing him back here. He's taken pity on him or something.” Acdon shakes their head.

Baze raises an eyebrow, what he's seeing doesn't look like pity or help to him.

“He's blind.” Dommin whispers back at Baze.

Baze looks, now, at the back of the officer and the boy who is being taken down the opposite hallway escorted by a couple of the red sashed Guardians. It seems like pretty harsh treatment of a blind boy.

“They bring him in and we feed him and cloth him and try to get him to stay so at least he's not on the streets but the first opportunity he gets he always leaves.”

“Why?” Baze asks, though if he was treated like that he'd probably want to leave too.

“Who knows, aside from the racket he makes when he's brought in he doesn't say a lot.”

“Maybe he's Force touched.” Baze had heard of the affliction before, when someone was so sensitive to the force that they went mad.

“No, he's just obnoxious.”

//

“Why can't you keep him here?” The voice coming from the hands holding him asks.

Chirrut tries to pull away from the officer who dragged him in here but he's is still being held so tight he can't move.

They've moved through the large room, Chirrut knows and are now standing with others there with them. He doesn't know who or how many. It's probably the men with stern voices and boney fingers and some that are mostly quiet and carry weapons.

If they were outside of the temple he'd probably be able to tell better but it's so hard to hear in the temple. Everything is so loud.

Right now he actually bites his lip to keep from crying out against noise anymore. It doesn't seem to be doing any good and he learned long ago the best way to stay safe was to hear everything he could.

Another voice speaks and Chirrut flinches. -too loud, too loud, too loud-

“We are not a jail Constable, we cannot keep him here.”

“It's getting too dangerous on the streets he'll die out there.”

“That is not our concern, all is as the force wills it. If the force pulls him to the streets and he dies so be it. If the force guides him here and wills him live so be it.”

“He's one boy, one blind boy. There are hundreds of you surely you can keep him . He can't be that much of a challenge to just keep him here.” There is a long silent pause after the officer speaks and Chirrut tilts his head one way and then the other trying to hear something he might be missing. The noise over everything here is making it harder to concentrate.

Then the officer speaks louder right in Chirrut's ear. Chirrut makes a whining noise in protest. “I've brought him here because I will him to live, Force willing or not.” 

Who is this man? The 'constable.' What does this man want with him? What does the Force know? He keeps hearing of the will of the Force but not what or why that is.

-I can take care of myself- He wants to tell them all, to shout the words and make them understand. He can't seem to do that right now his brain is too fuzzy. He'd settle for just getting out of here.

He figures that there are six others in the room besides himself, more or less, he can't be sure. The officer holding him and maybe five from the temple. He won't be able to run yet and He's without his stick which will make his escape a bit harder but not impossible.

He could make it out if they'd just leave him be.

“That is all well and good Constable. We will just have to see what the force has in store for him.”

The noise doesn't quit, it never does.

He can feel the noise in this place all the way to his bones. He doesn't know what is it and that frightens him. It's such a big noise, a humming, pulsing, singing noise that surrounds him.

He doesn't understand why no one here ever says anything about it, not even the officer who brings him here says anything about it.

It's maddening, it makes him anxious, he can feel a whining noise start in his throat again.

“Can we talk away from the boy. There's a few things I think it's time you know.”

“You can talk here. Chirrut doesn't...”

“No I'd rather not in front of him.”

“Fine, Dyr, Rumlin take Chirrut to the kitchen and get him something to eat.”

“Yes, Master “

“Please will you watch him?” There's a pleading in the officer's voice that Chirrut doesn't understand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is too much all the time
> 
> every voice pierces his ears 
> 
> every hand that touches him burns his skin 
> 
> Every whisper of the force sets his brain on fire

Chirrut doesn't fight, at least not as hard as he had, when he's taken by the arm and dragged to the kitchen. He hopes he gets across that he doesn't like being moved around like this. He doesn't like being touched especially when it's someone grabbing him to move him. 

But he goes with the two Guardians. At least they always have good food. His stomach rumbles at the thought. 

The kitchen here always smells like the food stands where he burns his fingers trying to sneak a taste. The food is the one thing that's tolerable about the situation he's in. 

“No.” Master Hung stops any hopes Chirrut has for a full belly. The voice is serious and clear in response to the guards instructions. “This is not satisfactory. I will not feed him again just to have him run off. If he is going to eat from my kitchen he is going to put some work in first. Take him to Master Lock, he's doing an orientation with a new potential acolyte this afternoon. Chirrut here can learn a thing or two about the temple and then maybe he'll appreciate our food.” 

“But Master do you think...” The guard's voice wavers. 

“This boy is clever enough to fill his pockets before he runs off back to the sandy streets so he's clever enough to sit through a class. You can bring him back when it's done.” 

Chirrut pulls against the guard's hands now as they takes him up stairs and down hallways. He lost hope of keeping track of their route with all the turns they've taken, he's never been this deep into the Temple before. 

He doesn't know where they are in relation to the door out of here. Anxiety is threatening to choke him. The noise is still surrounding him it mingles with the murmurs of people as they pass by. 

He stumbles when they stop suddenly. One guard drops Chirrut's arm to knock on a door. Chirrut is resigned to the fact that now is now a good time or place to try and run. He's frustrated and stuck. 

//

The knock on the door comes just as Master Lock is about to show Baze a copy of the one of the Journals that the Guardians study. The man who seems ancient to Baze sets the large volume back on his desk. “Excuse me, my boy.” 

The Master moves around his enormous desk to answer the door and Baze sits patiently looking at all the books on the Master's shelves. 

“This is highly unusual.” Baze hears Master Lock in the hallway and he starts to get nervous, he hopes whatever it is that's 'unusual' doesn't have to do with him. 

“Well certainly he's welcome, I just don't know...” 

“Alright, this way young man...” 

Master Lock opens his door wide and guides a young man into the room with a hand on his back pushing him forward and then over to the left and into the seat next to Baze. 

“You sit there Chirrut, I'll be back in just a moment boys.” Master Lock steps back into the hallway and closes the door till it's open just a crack.

Baze's eyes widen with recognition. This was the boy who was yelling in the great hall earlier. He wasn't doing that now which Baze was thankful for but he doesn't look happy either. 

Baze clears his throat nervously.

He turns his head in Baze's direction and Baze sees up close that he has eyes like no others Baze has ever seen. They are a hazy light blue with no visible pupil. His eyes move like they are search but not finding. -He is blind- Baze's brain makes the connection so suddenly the words almost tumble out of him mouth. Luckily he bites his tongue and thinks of something a little more polite. 

“Hi, I'm Baze I'm new here.” He squeaks and tries to clear his throat again. He wants to kick himself for sounding nervous. His mothers had always told him to be kind to everyone and make people feel welcome. Nervous isn't welcoming. 

The boy blinks in Baze's direction, the expression on his face is a slight grimace and his shoulders are hunched and his hands are gripped tight together in his lap. He doesn't look like he's going to talk. He's definitely uncomfortable and Baze tries to relax before he become uncomfortable too. 

“It's ok if you don't want to say anything.” Baze smiles at the boy before realizing that he can't see it and so it won't help. “I...I am glad to have someone here, it's been hard being the only new one.” 

He doesn't react, he actually turns his face away and Baze's words are just left hanging. 

When he feels himself start to get defensive Baze reminds himself not to take it personally. Mum Ozeela would have said that everyone is going through something. Just from what Baze has seen Chirrut has had a hard day. He looks the boy over and notes his worn clothes that hang loose on him. He's thin and maybe a couple years younger than Baze. 

The door to the office opens swiftly and Master Lock swoops back in, his white sash blowing behind him. Chirrut jumps but the Master doesn't seem to pay any mind. “Well lets press on.” 

The man sits back in his chair and looks at Baze and then looks unsure at Chirrut and then back to Baze. “Where were we?” 

“The first journal, Master.” Baze prompts. 

“Oh yes.” The man hefts the tome. “The Journal of the Whills is what our order was founded on. The journals contain the lessons of the Force that every Guardian learns. There are many things the Journals can teach us and some Guardians spend their lift times studying them.” 

Baze is very interested and listens intently. 

Chirrut, he can see in his peripheral vision is fidgety. His thumbs are rubbing at his fingers worryingly, he needs a worry stone like Mum Ozeela carried in here pocket and rubbed when she was thinking. 

Master Lock goes on and on about the Journals and then about the studies the different Guardians focus on and his own thesis. He pulls other books from the shelves and talks passionately about them too. 

Baze tries to stay engaged but more and more Chirrut grows restless. 

He starts bouncing his knees. 

The Master gets a soft look on his face, it's directed at Chirrut. He sighs, “I think I've done enough talking. I have something I can show you both, let me go get it.”

The Master stands and goes through a door behind his desk that Baze thinks must lead to a classroom or meeting room. 

Baze leans over and turns to Chirrut. “I don't know about you but I'm glad to get a break that was the longest lecture about lectures I've ever sat through.”

Chirrut blinks and his eyes wonder a bit and then he puts his head down and Baze hears him make a noise that could be a laugh. It was soft and breathy but Baze is sure it was a reaction to what he said. 

Baze is trying to think of something else to say that might amuse Chirrut when the other boy gets a pained look on his face. 

Chirrut starts rocking. He seems distressed. Baze isn't sure what's suddenly changed or what he should do. 

Chirrut starts making a whining noise and rocking in his chair. 

Baze gets up from his chair to get the Master. 

//

Chirrut thought he could do it, get through this. They said sit through this and you'll get to eat. It was simple enough. 

If he had to be here he would sit through this, get food and get out. 

But the man with the raspy voice had talked and talked and Chirrut's stomach had growled and the noise was constantly exhaustingly present. 

He felt it in the tips of his fingers and in his empty stomach and it vibrated his bones till he thought they'd turn to jelly. 

The man had still talked. Maybe he'd been here so long that he was nothing but jelly. His hands pushing Chirrut to a chair had felt solid enough. 

The boy, the new boy, Baze, Baze, baze didn't mention the noise...it didn't seem to be a bother to him. 

It continued to bother Chirrut and now there was a new hum that joins the steady one. The noise gets louder like it was coming closer. 

He wishes he could ask. -What is that? What is coming? What does it want??- 

Baze had seemed nice enough, if Chirrut could get the question past his lips and say the words loud enough to be understood Baze might answer him. 

But he can't get the words and the noise is moving, no longer just an all over feeling but a presence coming for him, demanding in it's tone. 

Scared, Chirrut is scared. All his senses are burning, his brain can't hold onto thoughts. All he can do is put his hands over his ears and hope something or someone spares him. 

//  
Master Lock comes back in the room carrying a small wooden box. 

“What's happened?” He asks startled, looking to Baze for answers. Baze shakes his head. He feels helpless. He has no idea. 

“You left and he got upset. I...I don't know why.”

Master Lock sets the box down on his desk and moves around to Chirrut's side. He looks as unsure and concerned as Baze feels. 

“Chirrut, dear boy, calm down, you're alright.” He puts a hand on Chirrut's shoulder and it only makes Chirrut whine louder. “Can you tell us what's the matter?” 

Chirut continues to rock and make a crying noise but now he has his hands over his ears. 

“I heard his stomach growling earlier maybe he's upset because he's hungry.” Baze offers weakly. 

“Perhaps...” Master Lock gives Chirrut a pity filled look and opens the door to the hall. “Dyr, please, could you take Chirrut back to the kitchen and tell Master Hung that he did his best. If he doesn't calm down take him to the infirmary maybe they can help him.” 

Baze winces sympathetically as the young red sashed Guardian takes Chirrut's arm and hauls him up and out the door. Chirrut stumbles and bumps into the chair and the door jamb. The Guardian isn't trying intentionally to be mean but he's not trained to handle anything like this. 

Chirrut eventually puts one foot in front of the other and escapes the room. 

Master Lock sighs and shakes his head. “I'm sorry about that Baze, Chirrut is our resident hard luck case.” 

//

The next morning Baze is finishing up his breakfast with a group of acolytes when he sees Chirrut across the mess hall being instructed to wipe down a table by one of the gray robed kitchen staff. 

Baze excuses himself to clear his dishes. 

The kitchen staff person has left Chirrut by the time Baze is on his way back to his table and he stops to say something to the other boy. 

He doesn't want to interrupt his working but it looks like Chirrut is pointedly not scrubbing the table anyway. “Hi Chirrut... it's Baze we met yesterday. Are you feeling better? I wanted to say...hum, if you got upset yesterday because of something I did I'm sorry.” 

Chirrut quirks his head and has what Baze thinks is an almost amused look on his face, but his expression is still tense, he still looks pained. He doesn't give any indication that he's understood what Baze has said. 

Baze is about to tell Chirrut he didn't miss much after he left Maser Lock's office yesterday when Ori and Dommin pass by “Come on Baze we need to get to class.” Dommin says uncharacteristically timid. 

Baze turns and sees he's looking nervously at Chirrut. Most of the temple has heard about Chirrut's fit yesterday, even though Baze didn't say a word about it. 

Ori looks down his nose at them. “Don't get too close to him Baze, he might hypnotize you with those souless eyes.” The acolyte snickers. 

“Ori!” Dommin hits the other on the arm, Baze hopes out of disgust. 

Baze glowers up at the taller boy for his awful comment. 

He wants to say something to the snotty brat, something like 'your three older brothers must have got all the brains in the family' but Dommin, trying to avoid conflict, is already pushing Ori on through the mess hall. He calls back to Baze that they'll see him in class. 

Baze turns back to Chirrut who doesn't seem to be phased. He's letting the damp rag he's been given fall onto the table top and picking it up to drop it again. 

Baze is sure he's seen understanding and what his mothers would have called 'processing' in Chirrut but it doesn't seem constant. Maybe he had a hearing problem on top of being blind, Force bless him. 

“Have you eaten?” Baze speaks up a little. Chirrut shakes his head slightly. Baze is sure he shook his head. “You can have this if you want it.” Baze holds out the sweet roll he'd kept for later. Chirrut turns his head one way and tilts it the other. Baze realizes belatedly that he couldn't just hold it out and expect Chirrut to take it, he reaches over and puts it in the blind boy's hand. 

Chirrut blinks and smells it, then without a word stuffs it in his mouth. 

//

Baze, the new boy, the boy from yesterday. He has a pleasant voice. Baze, has given him a roll.  
Chirrut eats it quickly before any of the temple people can take it away. 

Baze says he's got to run to his lesson. “By now, see you later.” 

Chirrut doesn't know about that. 

//

At lunch time Baze looks for Chirrut, but he's is nowhere to be found and Master Hung is grumbling about missing bread loaves. When Baze asks the others if Chirrut is gone they say simply “He does that.”


	3. Chapter 3

A month after Baze arrives at the Temple he has become a model acolyte.

He meditates each morning and evening with focus and he enjoys the quiet and stillness. 

He is a quick study and is excited by all the things the masters can teach him.

He is friendly and the other acolytes and his teachers all like him.

He has found that his favorite places in the temple are the library and the armory.

He's not allowed to work with the weapons yet but he goes and watches the smiths and the Guardians they don't mind his questions. He is working on his familiarity with the different weapons so he can name them by sight.

The Temple has been peaceful the past few weeks and Baze, even though his misses and mourns for what he had with his family, has felt content.

Each night he prays that his mothers have found the same peace in the Force.

//

"There you are!” A voice and a hand swooped down at Chirrut suddenly. He was sitting on a step outside the miners district washhouse eating a piece of fruit hungrily and so intently he didn't hear anyone approach him. 

He startles and drops the half eaten plum, his dinner.  He'd gotten from a washing woman for helping carry the dirty clothing bundles she'd collected to the washing house. He put his hand in the dust collected at the foot the step to retrieve the fruit but he was pulled away.

He snarls as the man yanks him up from the step. “Nooo.” He yells and struggles but the hand around his arm has a hold of him.

He'd changed his usual routine, the streets he frequented and had tried to keep to himself.

He'd only eaten what was given to him or what he could find instead of stealing. Still the officer found him.

“Noooo, please.” He begs desperatey. 

“Please? Please?” the officer takes Chirrut by both arms and shakes him. “I'm trying to help you, why don't you understand? Why?”

Chirrut blinks his eyes quickly, blinking away tears that threaten to start.   He's upset by the hands and the man's breath in his face and the yelling and being found and loosing the only thing he'd had to eat all day and the fact that he's going to be dragged back to the temple.

“Why won't you just stay where you're at least half safe?” The man sounds angry to Chirrut. 

Chirrut doesn't have any more voice for this man.  It catches in his throat and won't let him say all the things he'd like to tell the man who's fingers Chirrut will feel gripping his arms long after he's been released.    

“I'm so tired of this.”  The man sharply shakes Chirrut once more.

Chirrut sneers at him. His sightless eyes narrowed in disgust. 

As the officer starts pulling Chirrut towards the temple Chirrut grips his stick tight and doesn't let it go, determined this time to not be without something to help guide his steps when they get to the temple.

//

Constable Dauh ignores the looks of people on the streets as he drags the boy away.  He wears his uniform because people don't say anything when they think he's doing his job. 

Chirrut Imwe is a problem he never expected to have in his life.  He didn't have any children of his own. He never thought he'd he'd be responsible for one or trying to protect an insolent one. 

He promised his friend, his better than best friend, the boy's father that he would look after Chirrut if anything happened to him.  Then Zhen had been killed.  Poor stupid fool. 

Dauh had thought the best place for the boy was the temple, they could offer the round the clock protection the boy needed and give him an education that Dauh couldn't afford. 

But Chirrut was more than just blind he was stubborn and fool headed.  He probably got that from his father or maybe both his parents Dauh thought.  The boy was such a mystery,  he had always seemed very bright and then utterly bewildered in turn. 

He never seemed to appreciate or understand Dauh's attempts to protect him and after fourteen years of worrying about a child that wasn't his Dauh was at his wits end. 

They climb up the steps to the temple and as usual Chirrut fights him but can't escape his grip. 

The guardians had become desensitized to Chirrut's cries over the years and only pilgrims in the great hall seem to react to their presence. 

Master Quii and a group of guardians meet them. Dauh would like to hand off the boy and get back to his station before anyone misses him, but the Master has other ideas.

“Bring the boy and let's talk.” The Master waves at Dauh to follow out of the great hall and into the administration wing. 

“Leave the boy here.” The Master Quii motions to a chair in the hallway. Dauh lets go of Chirrut's arm and he's moved into the seat by one of the younger guardians while Dauh is ushered into an office where a number of Masters are gathered. Some the officer had seen many times others he'd never seen before. 

Dauh feels the need to defend himself and his choices before any of the masters has a chance to speak.  
“Look, like I said before I made a promise and this is the best way I can think of to fulfill it. You have to understand, the older he gets the more danger he is in.”

“Please explain it again, so that we can all know the situation.” The Master Quii closes the door behind them. Dauh gulps and prepares to tell them everything he knows. 

//

Chirrut doesn't want to fall asleep in the temple guarded by two guardians and waiting while others apparently talk about him in the next room but changing his routine meant he wasn't as close to food so he had to work harder for it and he was staying in unfamiliar surroundings so he hadn't been sleeping very well in general. All that and the fighting and trying to stay alert meant he was exhausted. 

The Temple is warm, warmer than the streets he'd been sleeping on and even though the chair he is in isn't very comfortable he is still sitting with no where to go. And as the voices in the next room drone on and mix with the odd, tiresome noise of the temple he finds himself slipping. He tires to fight sleep off but he can't seem to keep his head up, his chin falls to his chest and he's gone. 

The noise suddenly screams, Chirrut jerks awake startled and shouting. He's laying down...somewhere...cold boney fingers on his arm and a voice in his ear. 


	4. Chapter 4

The Temple noise screams and Chirrut jerks awake startled, crying out. His working senses come back to him in parts. The noise howls in his ears, the smell of an expensive wood fire confuses him, and he feels something on his arm.  

On the streets he has woken up with bugs crawling on him and curious rodents sniffing round his curled up form.  It always makes him twitchy for days afterwards.  He stills completely his trying to determine what kind of danger he might be in. The thing moves and he feels four fingers and a thumb on his forearm.  Instinctively he pulls his arm away from the cold boney fingers that leave an impression on his skin.

There is suddenly a breath on his ear and he hears a soft voice "they know you're here."

Chirrut backs up away from the hand and the voice, his only thought is to get away from this person who is too close to him.

He backs up till he hits air and topples over. He is doubly shocked by hitting the stone floor and the fact that he was apparently on a bed.

His self preservation instincts take over and he scrambles across the floor.  Not knowing where he is, he only hopes to put distance between himself and the unknown.

His legs are caught and his heart jumps in his chest.  He kicks out expecting to find a body but only finds air, which some how frightens him more.  He manages to shake off what had tangled his legs and his back hits what he hopes is a wall.

A wall means he can find a way out.  He reaches back and instead of stone finds fabric and suddenly there is a hand laying heavy on his shoulder.

Chirrut shouts and scuffs his knees and hands on the hard floor in an attempt to get away, he wants to run but he hasn't got a clue how to get out.

He's frozen on the ground.

-no, no, no-

He pulls his knees in, covers his ears and rocks back and forth thumping his chest against his legs.

-leave me alone, please, please, please-

"They know you're here, they know you're here, they know you're here." A breathy voice keeps saying. A second voice joins in "they know..."

Chirrut's whole body is shaking as he hears someone shouting nearby. He can't make out the words until the loud voice is right over him.

"This is your doing isn't it?" The voice hisses and there are suddenly strong hands on his shoulders pulling him up off the ground.

They pick him up easily. The noise in the temple raises till it hurts his ears.

Chirrit hums with the sensation in his ears. 

He tries to shake off the hand still holding tight to his arm.  An unhappy noise builds in his throat as he does. The hand is gripping him and he can feel each finger like they're branding him, he'll feel them for a long time to come and he hates that.

He is not let go, if anything for his fighting he's held tighter.

"What's all this commotion?" A stern voice asks and the hand lifting Chirrut up till his has to stand on his toes relaxes slightly. 

"oh Master, I'm so sorry.  He woke up the venerated Sir, with his yelling, particularly Masters Hok and Tollog."

//

Master Quii looks around the room.  There's a bed askew, blankets on the floor, and a pillow is trampled.   Some of the old venerated Masters are groaning.  Master Tollog is being lead back to his bed, apparently there was such a ruckus the 215 year old Master had felt the need to get out of his bed in the small hours of the night to do something about it.

And there was Chirrut standing in the middle of it all, being held tight by the night monitor.  Quii shakes his head.  This was his fault. His only relief was the fact that at least it appeared no one was hurt.

The constable had been so adamant about the danger Chirrut that even though the Guardians were of the opinion that they should not interfere, Quii felt compelled by the Force to try and get the boy to stay where it was safe. 

As often as Chirrut had been in and out of the Temple Quii had to believe that the Force wanted them to do something.  

Chirrut had first been in the Temple as a baby only a few days old.  Chirrut had stayed in the Temple walls for his first four years. During those four years he earned a reputation for being inconsolable, he cried night and day as an infant and as he'd grown he wasn't much better. Those in the nursery exhausted their knowledge trying to comfort him.

They thought perhaps the fits were because of his blindness. The medical wing of the Temple had determined after many tests that nothing could be done for the baby's sight.  Perhaps he was frightened, maybe he'd had just enough sight that light and shadows that he didn't understand scared him.  They never were never able to figure out what the problem was. 

When he was not quite four and a half Chirrut had run away and not been seen by the Guardian's for years. Two years ago the constable had started bringing the boy in every few months and Chirrut always ran away again. The Guardians did not intervene because all is as the Force wills it.

When Chirrut was brought to the Temple he was usually given a bed in the laymen's quarters.  When they found the boy asleep this evening it was Quii who suggested they put him with the venerated instead, he thought that perhaps the quiet and comfort of the old Master's rooms would calm the boy and convince him to stay.  

But here he is looking tried and miserable and probably no closer to wanting to stay then any of the other times he had been under the temple roof.

"Leave him to me Guardian."  Quii says calmly.  He sees Chirrut tilt his head ever so slightly and has to wonder if the boy understood the words or perhaps just his tone.  

//

Chirrut feels a new hand on his shoulder, this one isn't boney or gripping him hard. "Where is his stick? The one he came in with this time. Will you go see if you can find it? I'm going to take him to the kitchen."

The grip on his arm loosens and then lets go as the guardian hesitates to do as the Master asks.

After a tense moment where Chirrut hears footsteps leaving and isn't sure what is going to happen next he feels the hand leave his shoulder and hears the Masters voice. "Come along." 

Chirrut tries to figure out what's wanted of him it's hard to focus when his mind is occupied by noise of the Temple.  It's not as loud as it was when he woke up, but it never seems to just quiet and let him think.  

Chirrut flinches as the man takes his hand and directs Chirrut to put it on his shoulder. Chirrut isn't sure why. "Just follow me."

The man walks forward and Chirrut goes along about a step behind him. He struggles to keep up and trips over the back of the man's heels when he gets too close. It is awkward only made worse by Chirrut's uncertain footing.  

In the kitchen he is put in a seat at a table, he is too tired now to resist. The initial fearful energy he felt waking up has worn off and he's working hard to track the movements of the man in the kitchen with him. 

The man approaches the table and a cup is pressed into Chirrut's hand.  

 He lifts it and smells it. It smells pleasant, like sweet milk.

His hand shakes as he holds the cup and gulps the contents.  It is warm and thick and not unpleasant.

Chirrut enjoys the drink and the feeling of being warm and fed. He finishes what was in his cup and is sad it's gone. When he sets the cup down he realizes the man is speaking and he tries to concentrate and catch the words being said. 

"... Chirrut I am Master Quii. Do you know me? We have met before." There is a pause and his cup is taken from his hand and then in a pleasant surprise put back refilled.  

//

Master Quii sits across the table from the boy and watches him intently. 

"It is apparent that you do not come here of your own free will. Do you understand that you are welcome here? That we want to help you?”

The boy is shaky as he sets down the mug of warm milk that Quii gave him.  He blinks his slight less eyes and tilts his head.  He looks to Quii like he is thinking about what has been said but he makes no reaction. 

The Masters are split as to whether the boy understands what they say or not. Quii is of the opinion that he does understand.  He just needs proof to get the other's to believe. 

The Masters have seen Chirrut over the years.   He has never spoken in the Temple only ever seemed to scream and cry.  

They might have thought he was deaf expect he startles at sudden noises.

The option left was that the boy, fourteen cycles on the planet was lacking the capacity for speech and thought beyond the most basic level. The difference in opinion changed the way the guardians treated him, for better or for worse.

Quii had seen other Masters deal with Chirrut in a very 'hands off' manner for a number of years and he isn't sure if their intentions had ever been laid out for the boy in a way he could understand. “We do not wish to take you from the path the force has laid out for you but if you choose to be here we will accept and find a place for you.”

Chirrut wraps his arms around himself. The first bell of morning sounds and Chirrut whimpers.

Quii sighs. “Let us go to morning prayers, my boy.”

Quii gets up from the table, Chirrut doesn't move. Quii takes Chirrut by the arm and decides to lead him up to the Upper Hall where many of the acolytes, Guardians, and Masters choose to pray in the early morning.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chirrut counts as he climbs large stone steps after the Guardian. He is lead up forty steps. They must be wide, he thinks, because there are others on the stairs all round them, heading up too. Chirrut can hear many feet trekking up the steps. Most seem to move with them, a few rush up the steps and push past him. Chirrut hears someone a distance away getting reprimanded.

They climb up another 28 steps. Chirrut can’t remember ever being this high up in the Temple before.

He’s been in the kitchen and the mess hall, through the big hall, in some hallways. A few offices, and in the infirmary that he can recall. He wonders what could be upstairs that’s so important that so many people are heading there at once.

He’s mind is so focused on counting and wondering where they were going and who all the people around him are and trying to make sure he doesn’t trip as he holds onto the Master’s shoulder that when they leave the steps to walk down a hall and he stops counting he’s struck by a sudden realization that makes him stop in his tracks.

He stops so abruptly that the Master walks away and someone stops short from walking into the back of him.

“What’s the matter?” He hears the question from The Master... Master Quii and he almost answers but the man takes his arm and moves him along.

Chirrut breaths out a sigh and can feel his body relax slightly even as he is guided down the hall.

The noise, the noise the is overbaring in the temple, that overwhelms his senses so he has a hard time concentrating and exhausts him till he can’t do basic things like talk and think. To Chirrut's surprise and relief up here the noise that is ever present in the temple seems to quiet.

As they move down this long hallway with many footsteps around them Chirrut picks up on a new noise. He feels like they are moving closer to it. It's similar to the strange worrying noise of the Temple but it isn't as over powering as the noise he’s used to hearing while in these walls. It isn't making his brain feel fuzzier. 

The Master changes directions and pulls Chirrut to the side, Chirrut stumbles a bit as he is backed up his knees hit what must be a bench and he’s directed to sit. 

He sits and waits. There are too many people around and he doesn’t have his stick to help try and escape right now.

Chirrut is nervous and curious about this new noise, he leans in the direction of the sound. He tries to imagine what could make the noise, it's nothing like he's heard outside of the Temple. He's heard many different voices, the hum of engines and droids, the growl of hungry animals. This isn't quite like any of that. 

He hears a voice but can't quite make out the words. He ignores it. If someone wants him to move they’ll just move him whether he wants to be moved or not.

He's thinking about all kinds of sounds he can think of when something unexpectedly grabs his foot. He jumps and pulls his feet up onto the bench he's sitting on. His heart pounds and this thoughts race.

He feels a hand on his arm and that doesn't help to calm him like it's probably supposed to. Before he can pull back and away his hand is put into a basin of water. 

He does pull his hand back but the meaning of the voice's words becomes clear. "It's just water, I need to wash your feet before you enter." Master Quii says. Chirrut isn't sure why this needs to be done but he lowers his feet. 

"Thank you." Master Quii says in a breathy way that sounds strange to Chirrut. It isn’t happy about being touched but aside from making a scene all he can do is grip the bench as the man washes and dries his feet. 

"Alright let's go in." Master Quii says and Chirrut stands and Quii leads him into a room. 

The room must be large like the one the officer always drags him through when they get to the temple. He is set on a different bench along a side wall. "You can listen to prayers here." The Master says quietly and then Chirrut hears his footsteps move away. 

After a few minutes of sitting and listening to chanting and the noises in the room he gets up from the bench and no one stops him. 

He puts his hand on the wall behind him and starts following it. No one says anything or grabs him so he continues slowly. He doesn't have his stick so he can't tell what is in front of him, but he's too curious to sit. 

He follows the wall around the room. His fingers brush the stone wall. He can hear the breathe of many people all around but the only sound that drawls his attention is the one that sounds like a chime on the wind he can hear it and feel it in the room with him.

The vibration is a clearer less jarring sound. He's excited but also leary. With no one paying any attention to him he should try to run now and get out of the Temple. But he follows his path. He moves and it's like the sound is calling just for him. 

He leaves the safety of the wall that guided him and moves forward blindly into the room as he gets nearer to the sound. It is less overwhelming then the other noise in the Temple more like one bell rather than a hundred jangling all at the same time.

He reaches out a hand in front of him fully expecting to finally met and understand where the noise comes from.

// 

Baze is surprised to see Chirrut and even more surprised to see him in the upper hall.

Baze had picked up fairly quickly that those who had not taken the oath of Loyalty were not generally invited to the upper floors. Others in the hall for morning prayer seemed to be curious about Master Quii's decision too. People were sneaking glances as Master Quii directs Chirrut to sit in the back and prayers are started by the chanters 

Baze closes his eyes, clears his thoughts and opens his mind to his surrounding.

His goal is to commune with the force. He is focusing on letting the chanter's words wash over him when he hears a murmuring in the room. It's not part of the chanting, he cracks one eye to see if he can see what the cause is.

Baze sees Chirrut. The blind boy is on the side of the hall walking along the perimeter of the room. Other acolytes and Guardians have noticed Chirrut too and are whispering amongst themselves. Even though this is a quiet time of contemplation for those in the order no one moves to stop him walking around.

Baze has learned that the Guardians believe that if someone is compelled to do something that they should be allowed to do it for all is as the Force wills it. It is a philosophy that both makes sense and doesn't to Baze and Master Lock has assured him that many Guardians spend lifetimes trying the work out what it means to them. 

For Baze it means closing his eyes again and letting the murmuring and Chirrut's footsteps become part of the sounds of the universe. It all melts into the back ground and Baze let's his mind float. He is feeling the stone beneath him and the way his finger tips feel as they press together when there is a gasp throughout the room, multiple people all reacting at once and someone yells.

Baze opens his eyes in time to see Chirrut being picked up and grabbed away from the kyber altar.

Chirrut cries out and the sound cuts through the room. He is carried out to the antechamber by a yellow sashed Guardian without a word. The boy looks confused, frustrated and upset. Baze winces in sympathy. 

The doors to the antechamber close behind them and the room gets very quiet. It is not in a calm meditative way but in a tense, waiting to see what happens next way, Baze thinks. He holds his breath as Master Quii stands and faces the room.

The room erupts with voices. 

"Why was the boy allowed in the upper hall?"

"He have been allowed to stay his course without interference!"

"We needed to protect the kyber!"

"The crystals in the upper hall are ancient and clear and the guardians have protected them for hundreds of years. Should an urchin been allowed to put his hands on them?"

"Who are we to say it wasn't the will of the force that he touch them?"

"What about protecting him from them they are sharp in places and heavy, what if he had knocked one over and gotten hurt?"

The Abbott who sits in front of the hall raises their hands and the room goes silent again. "These are all good questions for each of us to ponder during our meditations and I feel there will be many different conclusions drawn. For now what has been done is done." 

One voice dares to speak after the Abbott, Master Uran. "Why bring him here in the first place?"

Master Quii who has stood quietly now speaks. "You all know that I am not of a mind to interfere with the will of the Force. I have come to believe young Chirrut's path keeps leading back here for a reason and the only way to discover that reason is to give him access to all the temple, places he hasn't been before so that his path may become clear." 

"His path is not one of a Guardian. He does not understand our order." Master Uran speaks. 

"I have observed him as you have and I'm not sure he understands what we do or even what we would do for him. I feel we may not have reach him in the past because It is not enough to tell him what we do and who we are, he needs to be allowed to touch and explore to see. You were in the same office I was Master Uran you must know why I felt this was necessary now. I thought it would be good for him to experience the calm and serenity here, that maybe that could convince him to stay. Unfortunately I do not think that is what he will take away from today. "

Baze though that too, it was unfortunate. For Baze the temple is a sanctuary. From what he could see Chirrut needed that in his life.

"Are you taking charge of the boy?" Master Lock asks Master Quii. 

"I did not say that, I simple was the master who his charge fell to early this morning. Other masters may deal with him as they see fit but we must decide how Chirrut Imwe will fit into the temple."

A guard enters from the antechamber and everyone turns and watches as they walk to the Abbot to give him a message. 

The Abbot nods and the guard steps back and then addresses the assembly. "No decisions will need to be reached today, young Chirrut has absconded"

"You gave him his stick?" Master Quii sighs and shakes his head.

The room erupts again, the overall feeling being 'He can't have gone far.'

Baze too thinks a young blind boy can't have disappeared that quickly but from what he's heard Chirrut's a sly one.

The Abbott speaks "He is in the hands of the Force and not our problem. Let us refocus and see if this prayer session can be salvaged."

The chanters start again at the Abbott's signal. Baze finds he can't re-center himself but he is only a new acolyte so he tries not to be too hard on himself. He lets his mind wonder how Chirrut could have gotten out of the Temple. 

Chirrut gets as far away from the temple as he can. He passes through the corner with trinket sellers and the pilgrims that always crowd the streets in this part of the city. 

The further from the Temple he gets his senses clear and the fog around his brain lifts. It usually takes a couple days to feel like himself but he's already starting to feel like himself again. He needs to find a safe place and sleep for a cycle.


	6. Chapter 6

Chirrut, over tired and burnt out. He feels wrung out like a dish cloth. Just making his way through the streets is more difficult than it should be. It feels like there are too many options, too many paths to take. It’s giving him a headache. Even making the simplest of decisions, like where he could go from here is painful.

He finds when he focuses on his surroundings that his feet have taken him back to the merchant district.

He hasn't been here in a couple of weeks. Part of trying to avoid the officer had been staying away from here but nothing has changed. This is where he's spent many of his days so the sounds and smells of it are familiar.

He sweeps his stick in front of him as he goes so it can warn him of any obstacles in his path.

He doesn’t remember how he learned to do this or who taught him but it’s how he’s always gotten around. It works pretty well for him. It isn’t perfect though, he does have scrapes and bruises from tripping and running into things that the stick didn’t pick up on.

The bad part though is when he drops the stick and can’t find it. Groping around trying to find it puts him in too vulnerable a position. It’s dangerous. Losing it all together is the worst.

Putting his hands out and trying to find his way on the streets is asking for big trouble.

As much as the Merchant district is familiar it’s also a rough place for him. It’s often so full of people that he isn't noticed and they don’t move out of his way. He’s been sweep up in the crowd before and lost his bearing, causing him to get all turned around and lost before.

He tries to stay out of the main drag when he hears too many footsteps and instead sticks to the sidewalks along the backsides of the venders. Sometimes when he’s walking through the market people yell at him, hissing and cursing at him when his stick accidentally whacks their ankle or their heel. Thankfully they usually let it drop when they realize he's blind.

Of course there has been the odd person who does not care that he is blind and takes it upon themselves to smack him back. He’s been kicks in the shin and even smacked across the face before.

The food stalls he passes smell good but he's too penniless to buy anything and too tired to try and sneak something off a table.

It's still pretty early in the day judging by the calls of the street vender.

The bread man's voice raises above the rabble calling that he has 'Breads, hard biscuits, the sweetest bun you'll find.' He still has sweet buns and he usually sells out by midday. That means if Chirrut finds a doorway in an alleyway or maybe a spot by the old fountain he could try and sleep for a little while. Then maybe he’d feel up to making some money so he can eat.

The fountain seems like the easiest place to go. He knows the area pretty well.

He keeps walking straight until he could hear the uneven flow of water into a small pool. The fountain is in the wall and isn't much more than an old decorative spout and a trickle of water that collects in a pool not much bigger than a bucket.

This is the water source for most of the neighborhood there are usually a few people here filling there own pitchers and buckets with water but right now no one seems to be getting any.

“Excuse me.” Chirrut says preemptively as he pokes around with his stick. He finds that no one is in the alcove next to fountain so he crouches down with his back to the bricks and his head on his knees.

He grips his stick tight and wrings his hands around the wood, over and over again. He can feel the tension and the pent up energy from his flight from the temple leave through his hands. He pushes forward and back rocking against the wall, focusing on the movement and trying to forget the confusion and craziness of the past day.

He drifts off to sleep and stays that way for a couple of hours.

When he wakes up he stretches and moves around slowly to put his hands in the under the fountain's spout and he rubs his face with some of the water trickling out. The water is cold and wakes him up all the way.

He feels much better than he did and he decides to head into the Market.

There are a few stalls and businesses here that he knows the owners will let him work and some he knows to avoid if he doesn't want to get chased off angrily.

The trinket stall run by an old seller name Tetzy is one like that. They are convinced Chirrut is a thief faking his blindness to get close to their tables to steal their things. Tetzy likes to set up near the stand with the soft fancy leather, Chirrut can always smell the leather when he gets close and knows to keep moving unless he wants to get Tetzy after him with a broom.

His best bet for work and therefore a meal is the chandler. The man makes all sorts of lighting devices that Chirrut is in no need of and in the past he hasn't been opposed to letting Chirrut work.

He has lots of children do jobs for him.

The chandler works out of a building at the end of the market. The building doesn't smell pleasant but it's not as bad as the stench at the dyers or the tanners so Chirrut can handle it.

He gets there and stands in the corner of the large open front of the building and waits. It's only a minute till he hears someone coming close. He feels his heart start to race anxiously.

"Work?" He asks. "Any work?"

"Haven't seen you around here for a while boy.” A voice he recognizes as the owner's comes from directly in front of him. “Yeah if you want work I've got something you can do." The man walks away and Chirrut tilts his head to try and follow his footsteps.

He tries to keep up with the chandler and not lose a chance at a meal. In his hurry and with his brain still feeling on the fuzzy side he doesn't notice the other footsteps that are getting close to him. With a crash and a thud he collides and things fall.

He's walked into another boy who was carrying boxes. The other boy curses and swears.

Chirrut tries to help but doesn't know which way things went. He gets down on his knees to pick things up when he's hauled up by the back of his shirt.

"This way boy. Maxx, watch where you're going stupid boy. Any of those are broken it's coming out of your hide."

"But he..."a voice argues.

"He is blind and dim, I'll not fault him."

The man keeps hold of the back of Chirrut's neck now and maneuvers him back to an area of the chandler's that is hot. At first it feels good after being on the cold streets but Chirrut knows from experience it will soon be unbearable.

"Pirgie, go and help the packagers." The man says and Chirrut hears someone with small feet run off. "He is happy you are here to give him a break. You know this job right? You stand here," The man puts Chirrut in his place and presses a handle into his hand. "Stir the vat. You keep stirring steady and I'll give you a farnie when we close up.”

“Yes.” Yes, he'll stir, yes to the money, yes to being able to get something to eat.

He doesn't know what's in the vat or what it's for only that they'll pay him to make sure it's constantly stirred while he stands here. He stirs the big pot of hot liquid until he feels like his arms will fall off and then stirs some more. Finally he hears the bells the mean the end of working. He doesn't dare stop though even after the bells, he doesn't want to do something wrong and risk not getting paid.

Finally the handle he's been holding for hours is taken from his hands. He sighs with relief and he reaches around to get his stick he remember was set by his side. Instead of his stick his hand finds the edge of the vat.

He pulls back with a hiss and hears a laugh nearby. “Been a while since you been here, got to remember every thing’s hot, boy.” the man, the owner says, he presses Chirrut's stick into his hand and a small metal coin into the other. “Run along now, come back tomorrow we might have something for you to do.”

Chirrut nods and moves quickly out of the hot back of the shop and into the cold air of the street. He shivers as the cold air hits him.

If he hurries he might be able to catch the dumpling seller before they close up, the farnie would maybe get him a dumpling.

If he can't get that he could try to get to the steps of the building at the other end of the market. It was a church of some kind. Different than the Temple, smaller, he thinks. They would often give bread away at the end of the day, after the forth bell, it was easy food to get but they were always trying to get him to sit through their services when he wasn't fast enough to grab the bread and get away from them.

They were really boring and he often fell asleep, when he did someone would poke him with a stick till he woke up again. He didn’t like it there.

He was lucky today, the dumpling seller gave him one with meat for his farnie and a broken vegetable dumpling that didn't sell. Chirrut ate well and made his way back to the fountain to sleep for the night.

The next morning and every morning after that for a few standard weeks he went back to the chandler's and when we couldn't find work there, He asked around the Market.

He would husk carrow root and carry water buckets for the flower seller. He earned a few pennies or sometimes bread for his little jobs. When he couldn't find any work he sat and listen to the sounds of the market or made up games or stories in his head.

The Market is usually busy during the day and into the night with lots of feet and voices all at once. Sellers calling and shoppers haggling.

 

It was a game for him to see if he could identify the customer and sellers who frequented the Market. There were so many of them and they had different sounds and smells.

Every once in a while he heard a noise that faintly reminded him of the noise he would hear in the Temple. He would tense at the sound, nervous about what it could mean. But it usually past him by before he could identify where, what, or who it was coming from.

One day a bit after midday Chirrut sits by the trickling fountain and the general rabble of the Market stops.  
Confused Chirrut quirks his head one directions and then the other, and stops rolling the stones he's holding in his hands, to figure out what's happening.

There is suddenly one voice. One he doesn't recognize. “You'll pay if you want to keep working.” There is a murmur through the sellers. “We'll be back in tomorrow and we'll expect all of you to pay your dues.” The voice is rough and sends a chill down Chirrut's back. Then it is gone and things slowly get back to normal.

The next day Chirrut is asked to take a box of flameless heaters from the Chandler's to the Bread vender. “Get them there without delay and you'll get something for your trouble. If they don't make it to him you'll not work for me again boy, understand.”

'Y yes.” Chirrut takes the wrapped package and follows his ears and his nose through the crowds to the bread stand.

He pushes through the people milling around the tables. "Delivery." Chirrut says as he hits the side of the table.

"I'm ordering here!" a voice practically shouts in his ear, Chirrut flinches. "Delivery." He says again a bit louder not to be ignored.

"What have you got boy?" The voice is familiar as the one that does the stand’s calls.  
Chirrut holds up the package. "From the Chandler." The package is taken from his hands. He stands waiting hoping to get something in return what he gets is grabbed by the collar.


	7. Chapter 7

Constable Dauh curses as he peers out into the Market from an alleyway he'd ducked down.

  
He'd finally found Chirrut.

  
For about a week after he'd heard Chirrut had left the Temple again Dauh had convinced himself that the boy wasn't his problem, that he should just wash his hands of the kid. After a week of worrying about his friend's son he realized he couldn't do that. Then like he'd done so many times before he started to look around the city for the boy again.

What made him curse and caused his blood to run cold was that today he found Chirrut and the Red Moon gang in the same place.

This is what he'd feared for the past fourteen years.  Now it was playing out in front of his eyes and there isn't anything he can do about it.

Dauh knows he can't intervene without risking being recognized by the gang members.  If they recognize him they might then recognize Chirrut for his father's son.  The boy really did look more and more like Zhen every day. 

Dauh balls his fists as one gang tough yanks Chirrut by collar away from the bread vender's table while they step in to intimidate the man into paying them protection money.

Chirrut puts up a fight as he is yanked back, because of course he does.

Dauh is surprised at the pride he feels when Chirrut lands a punch to the man's chest.

The man shouts in surprise and in retaliation throws Chirrut down to the ground. The boy lands with a thud and some of the fight goes out of him.  He grips his stick and slides back along the pavement until he hits the curb and can't get any further.

Dauh holds his breath, silently preying that the gangster doesn't go any further because Dauh will have to do something then.

The man stands over Chirrut glowering. Chirrut is very still, Dauh can only see the back of him now but he can imagine the look of distress on the boy's face.  He's been the cause of that expression more than once over the years.  

The man lumbers closer.  Chirrut has his head down and his face turned away from the man.  He's probably bracing for an attack Dauh thinks vaguely. 

The man takes another step, smiling like he's enjoying the feel of power.  Then Chirrut kicks out and Dauh nearly cheers when the boy's foot connects with the tough's sensitive bits.  

Chirrut scrambles up and moves.  Dauh knows from experience how fast Chirrut can be when he wants to be.   He trips on the uneven stones of the walkway he falls but catches himself hard with his hands and picks himself up and is off like a blaster bolt.

The tough curse but no one follows Chirrut.  

Dauh breaths a sigh of relief and heads back to tip off some other constables.  They'll be interested to know the red moon gang is moving into The old Market.  They may wind up with a gang war on their hands. 

Chirrut runs back to the chandler's.  He pushes past people and ignores their calls and yelling.  All he can things about is getting away from the bread vender's and staying out of anyone's hands.  He knows the street well enough that even while running he knows when he's reached the end of the block he turns and expects to duck into the chandler's shop instead he runs straight into the lowered gate. 

He's knocked back stunned, wondering what he hit.  He shakes his head and then turns left and right trying to figure out what's going on.  They shouldn't be closed yet. 

He realizes that the whole Market sounds wrong, like the day before when things went quiet. Everyone in the Market must have closed up shop quick and gone into hiding.  

Chirrut doesn't know what to do, all he knows is that he doesn't want to be grabbed again so he hides in the alley by the chandler's hoping things will get back to normal.

He sits on a step in the cold alley and fumes. 

He's mad at himself for being pushed around. Mad at the man who grabbed him and pushed him around. Mad at the fact that no one did anything about it. They were all too scared. And mad that he's wound up with nothing to show for a day of work, no money and no food.

So here he is back pressed into a doorway. Hoping the wind will quit, hoping he'll be able to ignore the rumble in his stomach and hoping that tomorrow things will be back to normal in the Market.

He squeezes his scraped and stinging hands between his knees and the pressure momentarily makes the pain go away but it comes back.  He curls up, doing his best to ignore it and tries to sleep. 

//

  
Baze is so excited Master Lock has invited him to go on an outing into the city tomorrow. He's taking a few of the acolytes and Guardians and they are going to visited some of the old city landmarks and monuments. Apparently Master Lock likes to take this trip a couple times a year and only invites acolytes who he thinks are doing particularly well at their studies.

Baze knows he needs to get to sleep, but he's so caught up in thinking about what he'll get to do tomorrow that he can't. He's really never seen the rest of the city. When he came to the temple with his mothers, they had taken the Pilgrims route from the outskirts. It was pretty much a straight path to the temple once you got up on the mesa and since coming to the Temple he hadn't been back out the gates.

He imagined all the different people he would see and the history. He had read about some of the other Force factions, maybe they would pass some of the smaller temples and shrines.

  
All the history in the city fascinates him.  

  
The next morning Baze is wide awake before the first bell and ready to go. He dresses quickly and grabs the shoulder sack he was told to bring with him.

He meets Master Lock and the others in the Great Hall. Some of the kitchen staff is there with food and canteens for them to take.

"This is your breakfast and your lunch so ration what you're given." Master Lock explains as Baze puts his in his bag.

From behind him Baze hears someone snicker and he rolls his eyes. He knew Ori was coming but he was hoping he could ignore him. That apparently wasn't going to be the case.

Baze got along with most of the other acolytes and enjoyed their company. But Ori was different, something about him rubbed Baze the wrong way and had since they'd first been introduced. To Baze's frustration everyone else seemed to like him and Master Lock must see something redeemable in the him.  Baze doesn't know what.

Also on the trip were twin girls Yirlie and Kee who Baze knew enough to say hello, and Guardians, one in an orange sash and one in a yellow one that Baze really didn't know.

  
"Alright everyone I'm glad you could all make it today. We'll be heading to some of the ancient site of the first Force worshippers and then the we'll visit the Sister's temple. Are we ready?" Everyone nods. "Good."

They make their way down the many stairs at the front of the Temple and through the many pilgrims gathered there. "Blessings" "May the Force of other's be with you." "Go with the Force." Master Lock and the other Guardians say as they pass through the crowd and the pilgrims reach out to them.

There is a new sense of pride that comes over Baze as the pilgrims reach out and touch his shoulders. He's of the Temple now a true acolyte.  That's how other's see him and it's how he's starting to see himself too.

//

"what are you doing? Move!" a voice cuts through the blankness of heavy sleep and Chirrut wakes up to a broom hitting him. "Move it, get out of my doorway." An old voice tells him and the broom's bristles poke and bite into his leg and side again.

This is a not a new wake up for Chirrut, he groans in response and moves to push himself up before he really gets wacked.  He finds the palms of his hands are still sore from when he scuffed them when he tripped yesterday.

  
Chirrut grimaces and bites his cheek as he reaches back for the wall behind him, finding it and his stick he gets up.  His stomach feels hollow and his head feels too light. He coughs sand out of his chest as he finds the end of the alley. Dragging his feet, trying to get moving, he knows he needs to work if he wants to get something to eat, no one here is going to give him anything. 

  
//

Baze is in awe, the city is waking up and the hazy orange light of the sun rising is making the buildings and streets of Jehda City sparkle.  

Baze walks in step just behind the Guardians trying not to miss anything. 

"To the right is the street that goes to the miners quarters. If you go to the left instead you'll head to the city's administrative district and there..." Master Lock points ahead and a little to the right at a spire that Baze can just make out in the morning haze, "is where we are heading first." 

Baze's eyes stay fixed on the skyline as he wonders what the Temple of the Sisters will be like.  

It's built of carved red stone like the Temple of the Whills but it's a quarter of a quarter of the size. It's small but still lovely, there are pointed arches above all the doorways and a large round window with colored glass that spirals in a dizzying pattern. 

Baze wonders if his mothers every saw this place. He thinks they would have loved it.

The Guardians and the Sisters discuss the Festival of the two Suns that is coming soon as they share tea that the Sisters offered. 

The Sisters wear rusty orange shawls and head coverings that signify their order. 

The twins talk animatedly with one of the younger sisters and Ori joins them. Baze sticks close to Master Lock and eats some some of his bread with his tea for breakfast. 

"Force Blessings to you." The Sisters see the Guardians off when Master Lock says it's time they were going. 

The little temple is on the edge of the old city market and even though it is early the Market is already packed with people.  

"Can we go to the Market, Master?" Ori asks.

  
"Can we?" The twins join in.

Baze has to work hard to not roll his eyes, this isn't a shopping trip. They are suppose to be learning.

  
  


 


	8. Chapter 8

Master Lock looks thoughtful "it's not one of our scheduled stops but I suppose it wouldn't do any harm."

The Guardians agreed with the Master and their little group heads into the crowd. "Stay close and we'll visit a bread stand that's been here in the Market and run by the same family for three hundred years."

Master Lock has so far proved to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the city just like everything else Baze has heard him talk about. Mum Ozeela would have liked him, Baze thinks, her favorite subject to teach was always history.  Baze loved when she did, she knew how to make it interesting and more than just dates and wars.   

Baze winds up following at the back of the group. He's not too happy about this detour, there's lots of people and not all of them move for the Guardians like the pilgrims did. He gets pushed a couple of time and is rather irritated by the time Master Lock brings them to a stop in front of the vender he was talking about.  

"Just smell that!" Master Lock exclaims and Baze has to agree the bread does smell delicious. The Guardians move up the to table as the last customer leaves. 

"They've used the same recipes for hundreds of years, just think, your great great great grandparents could have eaten from this stand if they were on Jehda back then." 

Baze is drooling over the braided glazed spiced bread when Master Lock's voice raises startling Baze into looking up. 

"What happened Master Foo?" Baze can see what Master Lock is surprised by, the bread vender had a dark bruise on the side of his face. 

"It is nothing Master Lock." The vender shakes his head and waves a hand but his face seems to say something different. 

"Are you alright Sir?" Master Lock continues. 

"Thank you for your concern but it is nothing for the Guardians to be worried about."

"Well I hope you feel better soon, Sir.  Say, do you have any of your famous sweet buns that we may purchase?" Master Lock asks slyly as he reaches for his satchel. 

The girls jump and Baze feels himself grinning in spite of his earlier irritation. 

"Certainly, you are in luck they are hot just delivered from the ovens." 

Baze takes the bun he is handed with a hardy 'thank you' and follows the guardians.  

As they walk through the middle of the Market Baze looks at the people bustling around. People carry baskets and bags, Venders call out what they're selling, there are children running through and chickens running around. It's noisy and though it's an exciting change of scenery Baze thinks he prefers the Temple. 

Baze chews the sweet soft bun, it's sweeter than anything he's had at the Temple and it reminds him of home and the treats he'd get on rest days if he'd been good all week.

Baze spots a fountain in the wall behind the vender's tables, he thinks to ask Master Lock if they can get a drink from it but before he opens his mouth he sees figure that looks very familiar who makes him forget what he was about to do.  

It's been a month since Baze has seen him but the boy is very clearly wearing old Temple clothing and carrying a stick, it has to be Chirrut.  Baze is surprised and excited and intrigued to see the other boy on the street.  

Baze sticks the last piece of his sweet bun in his mouth and then veers off the group and makes his way towards the fountain. In his curiosity Baze forgets to say anything to the others, 

He moves around a few people and weaves around the venders.  When he looses sight of the fountain and Chirrut for a minute he gets a nervous feeling that he can't quite place. 

When he sees Chirrut again through the crowd he's closer now.  He looks tired and thin, maybe even thinner than the last time Baze had seen him.  His hair is falling in his face but Baze figures it probably doesn't bother him too much. 

He's got his hands under the little bit of water that's coming from the fountain's spout.  He looks like it hurts.  Baze knows as cold as the day is, the water must be freezing.  

Standing a few feet away he asks "Are you alright?"  Chirrut doesn't acknowledge the question.  He takes his hands out from the water and shakes them wildly and maybe angrily.  He makes a frustrated noise. 

Concerned Baze reaches out as he asks again.  "Are you alright?"

Chirrut jumps as Baze touches his arm and pulling back from his hand.  He looks like he's about to run.  "Wait..."

//

"It's Baze... we met at the Temple."

Chirrut stops in surprise at the voice's words and a ton of thoughts fly through his head. 

-Baze, Baze from the Temple, Baze,.. Why is he here?  Why is he talking to me?  What does he want?  Did Baze, Baze from the Temple with the kind voice, run away from the Temple like me?-    

I occures to Chirrut than that he can hear the noise of the Temple.  He tilts his head one way and then the other trying to get a sense of where it was coming from but like any other time he's heard the noise outside of the Temple it's faint.   He's pretty sure it's not with Baze but it is close.

Chirrut shakes his hands in front of him again. He wishes they would just stop stinging.   

He is surprised, this is a first, no one from the Temple had ever talked to him outside of the Temple.  But Baze, he was nice at the Temple.  He has a nice voice.  He sounds nice.  Baze is talking to him outside of the Temple. He's talking now.  

-He's asking if I'm hurt.- Chirrut realizes, he flaps is left hand around vigorously and hold his right one out.

Baze's hands are suddenly holding his.  He can feel every place where Baze's skin connects with his.  Startled, Chirrut instinctively pulls his hands back.  He doesn't like to be touched, to be trapped.  

"Wait... don't. I know it hurts, I've had scrapes before too." 

//

Chirrut is holding himself very still and very tense as Baze takes Chirrut's left hand and looks more closely at it.  It's raw in places, and there's some torn skin. What Baze noticed though was a splinter.

it was a dark sliver of wood sticking from the heel of his hand. 

Baze wishes his mothers were here they were really good when he had scrapes or splinters. If they were here they'd probably chastise him or at least Mum Ozeela would, for not being prepared. 

It wasn't like they were going out in the desert or anything, so he hadn't thought to pack even a small med kit. His mum had always taught him to be prepared and he wasn't.  He'd be prepared next time he thought guiltily. 

"Come back over to the water." He directed calmly. Maybe the cold water would help numb Chirrut's hand. 

Baze holds Chirrut's hand under the water.  The other boy is quiet and his blind eyes are wide, it's a bit unnerving.  He reminds Baze of a desert skink he caught in a bucket once.  It had tensed and backed up to the side of the bucket and tried to stay perfectly still.  

"You've got a little piece of wood stuck in your hand, it needs to come out or it could get infected. I'm gonna try and get it out. This might hurt." Baze explains.  "Do you understand?" Baze would hate to hurt him especially if he doesn't understand why.  

Chirrut blinked quickly and his eyes shifted from one side to the other not settling.  Baze looks for understanding on the other boy's face. He is starting to think he isn't going to get it and he going to wind up hurting and possibly terrifying the blind boy.  But then he sees it. 

Chirrut nods twice, he understands. 

"Alright, I'm gonna pull it.  Try to stay still."  

Baze takes Chirrut hand from the water and holds it tight in his. With his other thumb and forefinger he tries to pinch at the splinter with his short nails. Luckily there is enough of it sticking out for Baze to just catch. He pulls and Chirrut starts to squirm.  

"It's fine, you're fine. Just hold on. I know..." Baze pulls the splinter free and relaxes. "Got it!" 

He puts Chirrut hand under the water once more and then brings it out to look at it.  

"All good. Looks clean, no blood or anything." Baze says very pleased with the results. 

Chirrut looks upset, he bites his lip and shakes his hand out again.   He winds up shaking both his hands back and forth again but less frantically this time.  That must be a good thing, Baze thinks.   

"Wow, that was a big splinter." Baze holds the thing up to look at it and finds it was longer than he thought it would be.  

He realizes after a second that Chirrut can't see what he's looking at. "Here... hold out your hand." 

Chirrut raises his right hand and Baze places the splinter on his palm.  "I just pulled that out of your hand.  It's a pretty big splinter." 

Chirrut runs his fingers along it, he looks impressed and horrified, or at least that's how Baze would feel if something that long had been pulled out of him. 

"I'm afraid I don't have anything to put on your hands, I didn't bring any antibac or med supplies.  Maybe Master Lock or one of the Guardians has something with them."  Baze looks up to find that others and can't. 

He looks to where they were and doesn't see anyone he recognizes.  He looks further down the street, but the Market seems even more crowded than it was before and he doesn't know where they were heading.   

"I don't see the others."  Baze says nervously.  "I need to find them."  Baze tries to remain calm.  It really isn't that bad.  If nothing else he can always find his way back to the Temple. 

Chirrut quirks his head to the side and Baze gets the sense again that the other boy is processing things. 

He's not like that more than a second before he drops the splinter takes his stick in hand turns and walks away from Baze. 

Baze is surprised at how abruptly Chirrut leaves him.  He guesses he shouldn't be, he can hear Acton's voice in his head when Chirrut was just gone from the Temple before "He does that." 

Somehow being alone on the street makes Baze feel more nervous than he was before.  He starts looking around for a place to start.  He gets about two steps from the fountain when he hears his name.   

He turns around and is surprised and confused to see Chirrut back and not someone from the Temple.  He looks behind Chirrut and out into the crowd to see who might have called his name.  Maybe Ori was messing with him.  The other boy looks perplexed like he's searching for something and Baze is about to ask him what he needs what he needs when Chirrut opens his mouth.

"Baze?"  It's a question like he's not sure Baze is there. 

Baze can't believe his ears and doesn't reply at first because he's shocked but he quickly realizes he needs to say something.  "Chirrut?"  Chirrut smiles and turns again to walk in the opposite direction Baze was.  This time Baze follows him though he's not sure where they're going.   

Baze picks up his pace so he can follow closely behind the other boy who is moving surprising fast through the people and down the street. 

Baze is still in shock. "I didn't think...They said at the Temple...You can talk?" 

Chirrut's whole body language reminds Baze of someone rolling their eyes at his question but he presses on.  "Could you talk this whole time?  Why didn't you say anything before?" Baze thinks back to the day they were in Master Lock's office and how upset Chirrut had gotten, why hadn't he just told them what was wrong? Maybe they could have helped.  

Chirrut shakes his head now and has a pained look on his face.  "The Temple... hurts." 

"What?  Why would the Temple hurt?" Baze can't imagine what in the Temple would hurt. 

Chirrut stops walking and Baze has to stop short to keep from running into the back of him. 

"There."  Chirrut holds his hand up and gestures across the street. 

"What?  What's there?"  Baze looks across the street and sees the group, Guardians, acolytes and Master Lock all standing off to the side of the Market, looking concerned and like they're having a serious discussion. 

"How did you?"  Baze turns to ask Chirrut but the other boy is gone, just like that, two seconds and Chirrut is no where to be seen.  Baze turns around in a circle but there is no sign of him.  Baze shakes his head bewildered.  

"Baze?" One of the Guardians calls him from across the street.  Baze takes one last look from Chirrut and then jogs across the street to join his group. 

"Baze, where have you been?"  Master Lock ask sternly and Baze can see the twins and Ori making snide faces at him from behind the Guardians. 

"I'm sorry Master, there was a fountain and I..." Baze starts to explain the whole story but Master Lock jumps in. 

"Oh that must have been the Weller's fountain, good eye Baze that's been in the Market here for five hundred years or more, it is quite the interesting piece with the interesting carvings around the spout. Next time you see something Baze make sure you tell someone where you're going.  I'm sure the rest of us would have liked to have seen it too."

Baze sees Ori roll his eyes and remembers how Ori acted when he saw Chirrut in the mess hall.  

Instead of going into any more detail he simple answers Master Lock. "Yes, Sir sorry Sir."

"Very good, come along everyone.  There's lots to see. We've got a full day ahead of us." Master Lock urged everyone follow him.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, Thanks for any Comments, I appreciate it, write me any time


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